Volume One: Chaos in Yan and Yun Chapter Eighty-Two: Myriad Stars and Celestial Phenomena (Part Three)

Watching the torrent of fireballs roaring toward him, Su Yuzhe felt an ominous premonition rising in his heart.

Were it only this, it would still be impossible to break through the defenses of the Water Veil Formation. But for the Second Young Master of Yanbei to go to such lengths only to create this situation—if he hadn’t prepared something in advance, Su Yuzhe wouldn’t believe it. What’s more, as soon as the fireballs appeared, the Second Young Master drew a great bow, and with the aid of Shuntian City’s formation, had already condensed an arrow of light over three feet long. Even Su Yuzhe himself could feel the oppressive force radiating from that arrow.

He no longer intended to follow Feng Yang’s planned script. Rising into the air, he gripped his broadsword and charged straight at the incoming boulders, cleaving down with a single stroke.

The blade split the massive stone in two, sending powder scattering in all directions.

Su Yuzhe caught a strange scent—sulfur. Before he could react, the scattered powder ignited, and in the next instant, exploded violently.

A thunderous boom shook the air.

Though Su Yuzhe was a cultivator at the Luminous Unity level and naturally would not be injured by such an explosion, the thick smoke and the deafening blast left him looking rather disheveled.

Standing atop the city wall, Feng Yang clicked his tongue in wonder. If only he’d had more time—even if he couldn’t kill Su Yuzhe, he’d at least wipe the smug look off his face!

He released the bowstring and watched as the Black Tortoise below drew steadily closer, feeling a tinge of regret.

Had the explosion struck the Water Veil Formation and blasted an opening, at the speed of the Black Tortoise, his Arrow of Dispersion would have been unstoppable. Once it penetrated the Black Tortoise, the Bohai Army inside would have suffered heavy casualties. The initiative would then have been his. Unfortunately, Su Yuzhe chose brute force, and Feng Yang didn’t have the confidence to hit a Luminous Unity cultivator. Better to conserve his strength.

No matter. Outmatched as he was, it was wishful thinking to expect everything to go according to plan. Even Li Jin Xing, when resisting the demon horde, first consolidated his forces before marching north—proof that, in wars of this scale, strategy alone was of little use.

If only he had a few more formidable allies at his side. But now, not merely top cultivators, but all registered soldiers, constables, and public officials in Shuntian had been sent out to aid the evacuation. Alone, what more could he do?

A clever housewife cannot cook without rice. In this predicament, even the ten greatest generals of the land could do nothing but stare helplessly.

He wondered what his father was thinking. If all that was required was to hold this long, couldn’t his third uncle do it? Why route his uncle to Mount Taixuan to fetch him? What deeper purpose lay behind this?

As this question lingered, the Black Tortoise finally reached the gates of Shuntian City. Feng Yang eyed the beast with a frown.

Suddenly, a ripple of vital force stirred nearby, and a silver-robed general appeared at his side.

A cavalryman of Cloud Pass: Wang Yun.

“Second Young Master, it’s time to go,” Wang Yun said.

Feng Yang hesitated. “Wait a moment,” he replied.

No sooner had he spoken than the Bohai Army began its assault: projectiles arced through the air, and the Black Tortoise at close range began to break apart, fragmenting into many smaller turtles.

At the same time, the great formation of Shuntian City came alive. Beams of light descended from the void, instantly annihilating many of the smaller turtles, their soldiers—whether at the Primordial or Tempered Body stage—perishing without even a scream.

Four shadows rose from the ranks of the Bohai Army, reaching the skies above Shuntian in an instant. They hovered there, each bearing a battle flag. With a thought, a massive curtain of light appeared, intercepting the attacks of Shuntian’s formation without so much as a ripple.

Feng Yang’s heart trembled.

“Void Daoists!” Wang Yun said gravely.

Feng Yang said, “The Palace of Transposed Flowers truly spares no effort. For just one of their initiatives, they’ve deployed four Void Daoists.”

Though his time at Mount Taixuan had not been long, he knew that, on the surface at least, Mount Taixuan counted fewer than ten Void Daoists among its ranks. The Palace of Transposed Flowers couldn’t possibly outmatch Mount Taixuan in strength, so logically they should have even fewer. Even without these Void Daoists, Shuntian’s defensive advantage would remain unshaken.

So, to deploy half or more of their top forces here—what was their true aim?

“General Wang, you’ve been with the Yanbei Army longer than I. Is there something special about Shuntian?” Feng Yang asked quietly, his eyes glinting.

Wang Yun frowned. “Guanshan Pass is far from Shuntian, sir. I know little of matters here.”

Feng Yang murmured, “Father, what is it you want me to accomplish here?”

At that moment, sharp sounds split the air; from the distance, the clamor of shouts could be heard.

Turning, Feng Yang saw dozens of figures flying toward them, dust billowing in their wake.

In the blink of an eye, several figures appeared at his side. Another heartbeat, and they were all assembled.

“City Lord of Shuntian, Liu Hui, pays his respects to the Second Young Master!”

“Commander of the Desert Gale Battalion, Xiao Yang, pays his respects to the Second Young Master!”

“Commander of the Flowing Sand Battalion, Yun Muyang, pays his respects to the Second Young Master!”

One after another, the commanders of Yanbei’s various battalions arrived, not only the commanders, but their troops as well—over ten thousand strong, all elite archers and cavalry.

By the order from Windward Pass, all Yanbei’s southern forces had converged early on Shuntian. The recent evacuation of Shuntian’s citizens had not escaped their notice, and when they spoke to the soldiers responsible for the evacuation, they ignored orders and rode through the night to reinforce the city.

Such timely aid could not be more precious.

Feng Yang was overjoyed. “Generals, you have truly delivered me from dire need.”

Before they could reply, he continued, “There are now two main problems. First, our forces are considerably outnumbered and outmatched by the Bohai rebels. Second, those four Void Daoists blocking our formation—if the formation falls, and those four are freed, Shuntian stands no chance.”

Liu Hui asked, “How does the Second Young Master propose we act?”

Feng Yang replied, “The Bohai Army’s momentum is at its peak, and we have traveled far. We must not engage them rashly. General Xiao, General Yun, please command your men to hold each gate on the city walls. The formation may not assist us in killing the enemy, but its defensive power should let us persevere a while.”

Xiao Yang and Yun Muyang exchanged glances, then swiftly directed their troops to defend the city.

Feng Yang paused, then continued, “General Chen, General Wei, though I regret to say it, the fall of Shuntian is inevitable. Take your men into the city, demolish some stone houses, block the South Gate, and lay straw in every home. When we retreat, we’ll burn the city.”

Chen Lin and Wei Dong frowned. “If we do that, rebuilding will be very troublesome.”

Rebuilding...

Feng Yang’s gaze fell. “Yanbei faces its greatest calamity. If Bohai and the steppe forces join, not even Yanyun may hold.”

Chen Lin was stunned. “The Second Young Master must be joking?”

Feng Yang thought that if his elder brother were here, he would never be doubted so.

As he considered how best to explain the current crisis, Liu Hui, who had been silent, suddenly spoke: “If Second Young Master wishes to destroy Shuntian, there’s a simpler way.”

Feng Yang looked at him. “What do you mean, City Lord Liu?”

Liu Hui produced the City Lord’s seal. “This is the core of Shuntian’s great formation. It can withstand the power of a Daoist, but if one drips the blood of a king upon it, it will be destroyed. Once the core is gone, Shuntian’s defenses will unravel.”

Feng Yang’s gaze sharpened. “Will my blood suffice?”

Liu Hui nodded. “Yanbei has always belonged to the Feng family. Yours is the blood of kings here.”

Feng Yang turned to the north, as if he could see the flashing blades and swords of Windward Pass.

So that’s what you meant, father.

“There is one thing you must know,” Liu Hui said softly.

“Speak freely, City Lord.”

Liu Hui glanced around.

Feng Yang hesitated. What secret could be so grave that even these old generals, who had devoted decades to Yanbei, could not hear it?

Liu Hui said, “It is of the utmost importance. Were it not for the crisis, even the Second Young Master would not be told.”

Chen and Wei understood and took their leave.

Once they were gone, Liu Hui lowered his voice, transmitting his words directly to Feng Yang’s mind: “Shuntian is the foundation of Yanbei. If Shuntian falls, nowhere in Yanbei will be safe—not even Yanyun.”

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The battle grew ever more intense. Many Bohai soldiers had already scaled the city walls, and the fighting had spread from outside into the city itself. Bohai siege engines had advanced at least twenty zhang!

“The time has come,” Liu Hui said. “Second Young Master, I urge you to order the withdrawal.”

Feng Yang’s brow was furrowed tightly. After a few moments’ thought, he took a deep breath, and, borrowing Liu Hui’s vital force, his voice rang across the battlefield.

“Hear me, soldiers of Yanbei! We are outnumbered, and though we fight bravely, defeat is inevitable. The Bohai rebels have planned carefully, and this time Yanbei has lost. But so long as the green hills remain, we need not fear for firewood. Troops of the Flowing Sand Battalion and all Luminous Unity cultivators will cover the retreat. The rest, withdraw first!”

“To my wounded brothers, it is my failing, not being as valiant as my father or brother, that has led to this defeat. I cannot bring every one of you home, but I promise, Yanbei will remember those who shed blood in its defense. Your families will be under the protection of the Yanbei Royal House!”

By the end, Feng Yang’s eyes were red, his voice choked as he roared, “With hearts of steel we defend the frontier, our fame forged amid bones and blood. Who among men does not die? Let our swords rest in Shuntian!”

“Who among men does not die? Let our swords rest in Shuntian!” the Yanbei reinforcements echoed with a mighty shout, morale surging and turning the tide atop the city walls.

Feng Yang stepped onto Liu Hui’s dragon-bile spear, glared red-eyed at Su Yuzhe, then crushed the City Lord’s seal in his hand. “Farewell, General Su! Today’s humiliation will be repaid a hundredfold!”

The spear turned into a streak of light, vanishing in an instant, only to reappear at the north gate of Shuntian.

An invisible barrier separated Shuntian from the outside world, trapping everyone inside.

Liu Hui’s face was grim as he murmured to Feng Yang, “Second Young Master, heaven and earth are sealed. I cannot leave.”

Feng Yang’s expression darkened. “So fate decrees.”

He turned with the retreating troops. “Keep fighting—no surrender, no retreat!”

As Feng Yang gave his order, every stone and tile of Shuntian began to glow with a blinding white light. The buildings melted away like snow, and a suffocating aura of destruction spread outward from the heart of the city.

The four Void Daoists of the Palace of Transposed Flowers paled at the sight, hastening to activate their formation in a futile attempt to halt Shuntian’s self-destruction. But their light curtain could not penetrate the city.

Su Yuzhe wished to intervene as well, but ultimately suppressed the impulse.

The self-destruction of a fortress city—there was little even a Luminous Unity cultivator could do, not to mention the Void Daoists. It was up to Master Zisang to decide whether to act.

Yet one thing he could not fathom: how had Feng Yang, with his cultivation, managed to shatter the City Lord’s seal?

Explosions resounded one after another, the sky and earth shaking. Countless fissures radiated from Shuntian’s heart, the city walls collapsing in an instant, many soldiers tumbling into the cracks.

The Void Daoists were swept far away by the raging waves of vital energy. Though unharmed, they were powerless to change the circumstances.

Suddenly, a sigh echoed from the horizon, and a hunched old man appeared above Shuntian.

With a low shout, he thrust out his palm and squeezed tightly above the city.

Astonishingly, the white light within Shuntian was suppressed, shrinking down to a sphere only dozens of zhang in radius—yet the energy within made even the old man, mighty as he was, furrow his brow.

“A fortress city’s self-destruction triggers the simultaneous collapse of countless formations within. I can only suppress it for a time, not dispel it entirely,” the old man said coolly. “If you’re wise, order your army to retreat a hundred li now.”

Su Yuzhe replied, “That does not fit with the plan.”

The old man glanced at him. “I judge the situation as I see it. As for Bohai’s schemes, they are none of my concern.”

“Perhaps you should try to preserve it.” At this moment, another voice spoke.

Feng Shenwei appeared beside the old man, as if he had always been standing there.

Back when Dou Xiaotong foresaw this outcome, he had asked Feng Shenwei to come to Shuntian and thwart the Palace of Transposed Flowers. Even so, he had arrived a step too late.

Su Yuzhe’s pupils contracted.

“Zisang Bushou, you’re still alive?” Feng Shenwei looked at the suppressed sphere of light in Shuntian and asked calmly.

Zisang Bushou was the junior brother of Zisang Bumou. In the past, Wei Sanmu ascended to the heavens, Zisang Bumou journeyed east, and later met a promising youth whose talent he admired, accepting him as a nominal disciple. Zisang Bushou later stunned all at the Daoist Assembly, sweeping to first place—defeating even the Sword Saint of Snowcloud Sect and Mount Taixuan.

The Sword Child he defeated is now Elder Whitebrow of Snowpeak; the Dao Child, now master of the Abyss of Demons.

Later, it was said that Zisang Bushou forced a breakthrough to the Daoist level and suffered a Dao injury. Zisang Bumou searched the world for a cure but failed. Now, it seemed that rumor was false.

Though he looked far more haggard, Feng Shenwei could sense the power of the Dao within him.

“A remnant life, nothing more. I can still cling on a while,” Zisang Bushou answered.

He gazed at the sphere of light in Shuntian, a trace of regret in his eyes.

As a man of the human race, his greatest dream was to strike north against the demon horde—yet here he was, complicit in the fall of Shuntian.

“Then perhaps you should not cling to it. Why not end it here today? With me to send you off, you need not feel wronged,” Feng Shenwei said softly.

Zisang Bushou made no reply.

A thunderclap split the daylight.

Suddenly, he struck at Feng Shenwei with his palm, a hundred-zhang rainbow of energy shooting forth at blinding speed, engulfing Feng Shenwei’s position in the blink of an eye.

“Did it hit?” Su Yuzhe wondered.

“Feng Shenwei is famed for his speed. Though Master Zisang’s palm was swift, I doubt it succeeded,” said Yang Fan.

A few breaths later, the rainbow faded.

Feng Shenwei still stood where he was, a tendril of vital energy, dazzling as the sun, wound around his extended finger.

“Hurry and go!” he called to the remaining Yanbei soldiers inside Shuntian. “Head north! Windward Pass cannot be held. Go straight to Yanyun!”

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